How to Speak Xing
by NinjaSquirls
Summary: In which there is an undeclared dinner date, and Ed's thirst for knowledge proves itself once again. RoyEd, yaoi, and a lesson in Xing. So much fluff...from me, no less. Warning: bad Chinese and obtusely romantic Roy.


**A/N: **Wow...it feels like I'm coming back from the dead. This is the frst thing I've managed to get finished in more than a month and a half - never believe anyone who tells you that taking 8 AP exams is a good idea. IT'S NOT! I feel like my brain was sucked out though my eyeballs. It was awful. But it's over, and graduation is over, and now I have a nice long summer break before I head off to Stanford - yay! Sleep, sleep, and more sleep, and fanfiction. Tons of fanfiction. Which brings me back to this, my first new entry in a while. It started out as being an idea of how Ed and Roy would do on a dinner date, but then right about when I was starting writing it, I went through about a week where I had Chinese stuck in my head - I would just be sitting in calculus and I would start thinking of Chinese phrases. So this became about Roy teaching Ed Xing. Because we're going to say, for fictional purposes, that Chinese and Xing are more or less the same. Heh. We are also going to say that Roy is Xingian, cause we don't know anything about his family and he could be. He certainly looks it. Enjoy it! It's the first thing I've written in ages that is pure, unadulterated fluff. That's right, folks! No angst! Not even the tiniest little drop! It's a sign of the apocalypse. But don't get used to it, because I have an angsty Naruto fic, a flangsty Will/Bran (Dark is Rising) fic, a ton of angsty drabbles, and a oneshot about Ed prostituting himself in Germany waiting in the wings to be finished and put up. So as I said, enjoy the fluff while it lasts.

**Warning**: This fic will contain some Chinese, if you couldn't guess (I mean, it's about Roy teaching Ed Chinese? What do you expect? Welsh? Although Welsh is pretty sexy...). Tranlations are provided at the bottom. But be warned. My Chinese is baaad. I studied it last summer in a summer program for the University of Mississippi, and we did actually spend six weeks in China learning to speak it. But my mastery of the language was ehh..not so good - not bad, but six weeks isn't that long - and I've had a whole year to frget everything. Please don't kill me if I messed something up.

**Disclaimer**: I possess less of FMA than I do skill in speaking Chinese. That's kind of pathetic.

* * *

**How to Speak Xing**

"What are you craving?"

"I don't…_what_?" Roy's hand jerked, leaving an ugly gash of ink across his signature. He glared up at Ed, who had just asked a question that he could not _possibly_ have intended to sound as perverted as Roy's brain made it.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Are you getting deaf now that you're getting old? I _asked_ you what you feel like eating."

'Mind out of gutter, mind out of gutter,' Roy chanted to himself. "What are you talking about, Fullmetal?" He asked.

Raising an eyebrow, Ed replied, "Honestly, have you been listening to a word I said?" Roy resisted the urge to answer, 'No, I've been too busy staring at your face, and your hands, and your…' As pleasurable as the young man's expression would be, that would probably get him into trouble, and being slapped with automail _hurt_. He settled for an arrogant smirk; one could never go wrong with a smirk.

Ed sighed melodramatically. "If you had been paying attention, you would know that I got my paycheck today, and they gave me a bonus for something or other, and I feel like splurging, so I decided to go out for dinner, and I'm _asking_ you if you want to come."

Roy leaned back in his seat, folding his hands gracefully on the desk. "A dinner invitation? I'm touched, Ed."

Ed blushed. "Shut up, bastard. I'm only offering because eating a fancy meal alone is pathetic. I'd take Al, but he can't eat; it'd be mean to just sit there and do it in front of him. You were just the first person I thought of who wasn't busy, okay?"

"I think I should be insulted, Fullmetal."

"Well, if you want to turn down free food, I certainly won't stop you!"

Roy could tell if he pushed Ed any further, they were going to end up screaming at each other…things would smashed…and probably set on fire. It was definitely time to end this.

"What time do you want me to be ready to go?"

Roy had always thought that jaw-dropping was just a figurative expression; Ed was currently proving him wrong. Roy could hear something in the young man's brain go ping as he tried to process this.

"You mean…you mean you're actually going to go?" he said with a squeak.

"One should hardly extend an invitation if one doesn't want it to be accepted, Fullmetal." Roy answered him.

Ed's lip twitched as though he wanted to say something biting, but he restrained himself. "Six o'clock, bastard. Do you want to meet here?"

"Ed, I can hardly go out to dinner in my uniform. I need to go home and change. I'll meet you at your room."

Ed blinked. "Okay. But you still haven't told me where you want to go."

"Don't worry Fullmetal. I have a place in mind."

"All right. I'll see you then, then."

To Roy's credit, Ed was outside the door a full three seconds before a wholly uncharacteristic grin lit up his face and he started to cheer softly.

* * *

Roy gave him a look he had perfected over years of dealing with Ed; it summed to something like, "your stupidity thoroughly convinces me that our species is doomed."

"I assure you, Fullmetal, that this is a very fine eating establishment, and no one will attempt to serve you dog."

It was indeed a fine restaurant. It was small, only a single large room divided down the center by a partial wall and a few steps; perhaps a dozen tables filled the space. It was elegant however; small hanging lamps provided soft illumination, the walls were tastefully hung with screens and ink paintings, and the tables were accented with carefully arranged flowers in every hue and variety.

Ed and Roy sat across from each other at a small table near the back, along the wall. Ed had elected to simply wear what he wore every day, namely a black shirt and jacket with that striking, if ostentatious, red coat and a pair of tight leather pants; Roy wasn't entirely sure that Ed owned anything else. Roy, on the other hand, had dressed carefully in a dark blue silk shirt and charcoal slacks; he wanted to look nice, but not so nice that Ed got suspicious.

Ed, at the moment, didn't seem to be interested in Roy's outfit; he was occupied with glaring irritably at the menu in front of him.

"Mu Shu pork? Chicken Gai Dan? What the hell? What kind of food do they serve here, bastard?"

Roy raised his eyebrows. "You've never had Xingian food before, Fullmetal? You really are culturally inept."

Ed growled back, "We can't all be desk officers, Colonel Bastard. Some of us actually have to work out in the field for a living. It's not easy to learn about foreign cuisines when you're sleeping outside most of the time, okay?"

"Relax, Fullmetal," Roy said lightly. "It's not that big a deal. We'll just have to see what we can do to get you a little experience tonight."

Ed grunted and resumed his scrutiny of the menu, at least until Roy reached across the table and plucked it out of his hands.

"What did you do that for, bastard?"

"I'm not going to let you order when you don't know what you're doing, Fullmetal. I'll order for both of us."

He ran down the menu quickly. The selection at the restaurant was impressive; he saw a number of dishes he would have loved to order if he were on his own. Most of them, however, wouldn't be very appetizing to a young man sampling the style for the first time; he picked instead a few simple dishes he thought the alchemist would like.

Roy looked up and caught the eye of a waitress. "Xiao jie?" he called. "Qing wen, women yao yu ding." (2)

The young woman walked over to their table. "Xiansheng, nimen yao shenme cai?" she asked him. (3)

"Zhe ge, zhe ge, he zhe ge…" Roy replied, pointing at dishes on the menu. "Zhe ge hao ma? Ta xihuan ma?"(4)

She shook her head. "Na ge cai hen guo." (5)

Smirking, he answered "Mei guanxi. Wo de pengyou fu chu. (6)

The waitress giggled. "Oh! Na ge cai hen haochi! Ni de pengyou xihuan." (7)

He smiled broadly. She looked down at her notepad and asked, "Ni yao biede ma? (8)

"Bu yao, xiexie." He said, handing her both menus. (9)

"Bu xie, xiansheng…" She looked at Ed with a small smile on her face. "Wo de pengyou hen piaoliang." (10)

Roy raised his eyebrows slightly. Then he turned to Ed and swept a slow, deliberate, appraising gaze over him. Facing the waitress again, he answered, "Ni dui le. Ta mei li." (11)

"Ni shui Xing?" (12) Ed's voice broke the silence after the waitress departed.

Roy's eyes widened. "You understood what I was saying?" He asked.

Ed shook his head, laughing. "Not a word. I only speak about five words of Xing. A guy I met on one of those lame-ass missions you sent me on – his name was Ling (13) – tried to teach me once. It was awful; every time I tried to say something, he just started laughing. About all I can do is tell people I don't speak it and ask where the bathroom is. Where'd you learn to speak it so well?"

"You really are oblivious, aren't you, Fullmetal?" Roy asked with a smirk. "You never noticed from my features? I'm part Xing. My mother grew up in Qingdao (14) before she came to Amestris. She taught it to me."

Roy knew from the gleam in Ed's eyes that this had been the right topic to bring up; the younger alchemist had never been able to resist the opportunity to learn something new.

"You have to teach me," Ed demanded.

"Oh I do, do I?"

"Absolutely," Ed affirmed. "It's your duty as my commanding officer, bastard."

Roy made a show of sighing loudly. "Well, I suppose, if you insist. Would you like to get started right away?"

Ed's answer was to clear a space in front of the two of them, shoving the placemats and napkins to the side before digging several sheets of paper out of his coat pocket and transmuting a pen out of his fork.

* * *

's teaching method probably wouldn't have gotten him many points in a formal setting. He started Ed slowly on the basics – personal pronouns, numbers, greetings, simple sentence structure – and he had to admit the expression on Ed's face when he asked him to sing the song his mother used to teach him his numbers and simple verbs (_yi er san si wu liu qi/wo de pengyou zai na li?_) (15) was absolutely priceless. But once he could see that Ed was able to pick the words up quickly, Roy increased his pace, throwing Ed every word he could think of off the top of his head – table (zhuo), chair (yi), knife (dao), spoon (chi), gloves (shou tao), colonel (lù jūn shàng xiào) – without bothering with the grammar. The only thing he was thorough on was the characters, tracing out the lines in a sure hand and making certain that Ed had each character properly matched to its word; he probably wouldn't be able to write them, but Roy was sure he would recognize them if he saw them again. 

Roy found himself enjoying the impromptu lessons very much. Ed was a rewarding pupil, hard working and quick to learn; Roy wouldn't be surprised if the boy could hold a decent conversation within a week. Roy also took advantage of the chance to observe him closely without being smacked – the way his eyes glittered and his grin broadened when he pronounced a word correctly the first time, the way his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth when he was concentrating particularly hard. And, of course, the dark scowl when a character he was trying to write turned out wrong for the third time in a row.

"Damn stupid useless junk language!" Ed exclaimed. "Why can't they just use an alphabet like everybody else? Is that so much to ask?" He slammed his pen down against the table.

"Having trouble?" Roy asked blandly.

"Damn right I am. If I knew who came up with this crazy language I'd travel back in time and transmute them into dog food. No matter what I do, it doesn't look right."

"Here," said Roy gently. "Let me help you with that."

He pulled his chair around the edge of the table, closer to Ed, so their shoulders were nearly brushing. Picking up the pen, he pressed it back into Ed's palm before wrapping his fingers around Ed's hand, taking a brief moment to be awed at how much smaller it was than his own. He guided Ed's hand to the paper, pressing down so that the tip of the pen touched, and began to move; Ed had no choice but to let his hand follow the motions of Roy's as he traced out the character slowly. When Roy's hand stopped moving, Ed looked down at the paper, and saw the finished character there, flawless.

"There," Roy whispered in his ear. "Now do you see how it's supposed to feel? Think you can get it right?"

He felt a shudder run down Ed's back where it was pressed against his chest, and realized how close together they were. He jerked back, nearly tipping his chair over; to his embarrassment, he felt a hot blush creeping over his cheeks. When he glanced over to Ed, he saw a similar redness on the other's face as well.

Luckily, before there was a chance for an awkward conversation, the waitress returned with several dishes, and for several minutes the only words were "are you sure this isn't dog?", "what am I supposed to do with this?", and, after Ed discovered the dumplings, "I love you Roy, these are the best thing ever invented." (16)

Roy also continued the Xing lessons, pointing out ingredients in the dishes with a stab of a chopstick and refusing to allow Ed to eat them until he had pronounced them correctly several times. Ed glared at him, but had to admit it was good motivation for learning the words.

All too soon, the two of them were pushing aside the last empty dishes, and Roy signaled the waitress to bring them the check. Somewhat to his amazement, Ed didn't react to the price of the meal; he'd been a bit worried that Ed would be furious about the cost of the dishes he'd ordered, but he merely glanced at the check and pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket. Roy wondered idly what he'd done to warrant that much of a bonus on his paycheck and why it wasn't in his last mission report.

The waitress returned with Ed's receipt, and the two stood up to leave the restaurant. Once they reached the sidewalk outside, however, Roy was oddly reluctant to depart from the blond; he was almost tempted to offer to walk him home. He imagined himself escorting Ed back to his room, saying goodnight to him in the hallway, leaning in for a kiss –

"I had a nice time," Ed's words broke through his daydream. When Roy looked at him, he looked away, scuffing one boot against the ground. "I mean, you were less of a bastard than usual, and the food wasn't that bad, even if it was dog, and I appreciate the Xing lesson, and we should do that again sometime – learning Xing, I mean."

"I agree with you," Roy said. "In fact, so I know you're practicing until the next time we do this, why don't I give you a little assignment?" He pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and scribbled several characters on it.

"I want you to look these characters up; I expect you to tell me what they mean next time." He thrust the paper into Ed's hands.

Watching the blond walk away, Roy had to wonder at his daring.

* * *

"You are a bastard," said Ed. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to find that character? I mean, I know _wo_, and _ni_, but I spent the last two days digging through dictionaries trying to figure out what _ai_ means. You couldn't have thought of an easier way to tell me?"

Two hands grabbed his collar and pulled him close, and then he was lost in the delicious sensation of Ed's lips pressed against his, Ed's tongue working its way into his mouth, Ed's hands tangling in his hair, before he realized what was happening and turned the tables, moving until he was standing in front of Ed, pressing him into the desk and kissing him back while trying to get Ed's shirt off as quickly as possible.

The scrap of paper which bore the phrase "_wo ai ni_" fluttered forgotten to the ground. (17)

**_owari_**

* * *

**Notes and Translations for the Chinese-Type Junk**

1) No, most Chinese restaurants in the US (don't know about elsewhere) do not serve dog. You can, however, get it in China from street vendors in the city. As well as roasted rat. And bugs. My roommate bought fried locust from a street vendor once when we went shopping. Apparently it tasted like socks. Cause that just sounds sooo appetizing…

2) "Miss? Excuse me, we want to order."

3) "Sir, what dishes do you want?"

4) "This one, this one, and this one…is this one good? Will he like it?"

5) "That one's very expensive."

6) "Doesn't matter. My friend is paying."

7) "Oh! That dish is delicious! Your friend will like it."

8) "What else do you want?"

9) "Don't want anything else, thank you."

10) You're welcome, sir…your friend is very pretty."

11) "I know. He's beautiful."

12) "You speak Xing?"

13) I couldn't resist. I love Ling. He's just too cute! And for those of you not in the know, Ling is a canon character from the mangaverse, a prince of Xing and an alchemist that Ed meets in Rush Valley.

14) Fine, fine, I cheated. Qingdao is not a city in Xing. Qingdao is a city in China in the Shandong Province, right on the northern coast across from Korea. It's where I stayed while I studied in China. It's a beautiful city (and humongous, though not by China standards – about 5 million people), and the only one I could think of off the top of my head.

15) The whole song is "yi er san si wu liu qi/wo de pengyou zai na li?/zai zhe li, zai zhe li/wo de pengyou zai zhe li." In English: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven/where are my friends?/they are here, they are here/my friends are here." Very, very silly. Our Chinese teacher from America, Mama Mei, taught us that while we were still in Mississippi, and more than one time we ended up sitting in someone's hotel room singing it loudly in the middle of the night. And to think that none of us drank at all on that trip…

16) It's true. Jiaozi are the greatest thing ever. No arguments. Even better than mantou (steamed bread), or baozi (steamed filled buns). Just good.

17) Wo ai ni – I love you.


End file.
